The Heart Of A White Witch
by Wings Of Sanguine
Summary: After two strangers climb out of Storybrook's wishing well, witches find their way to the small town to reclaim the one thing that was lost to them used to thrive during the Blood Moon- and Emma is soon caught up in the mess after she learns that she is mistaken for being a Supreme White Witch. (DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN OUAT/Hansel&Gretel OR ANY CHARACTERS)
1. Chapter 1

"So, what's the best way to kill a witch, do you think?"

Emma raid an eyebrow at her son, Henry's, question. They were sitting in the woos by an old wishing well, eating small cones of ice cream. The well itself was old, and the wood was beginning to give way to the many maggots and bugs that had decided to lay to rest on the roof. Plants and weeds had grown around it, tangling up in one another's leaves. That didn't stop them from going almost every day after Henry was let out of school.

It also didn't constitute the strange question she was being asked.

"What?" she replied, unsure of what she had heard.

"Witches," Henry repeated, "How do you kill them?"

Emma wrinkled her nose, licking her ice cream. The dessert was cool and smooth on her tongue, making her tingle slightly.

"Uh, I dunno, kid," she said, "Why do you need to know how to kill a witch anyway?"

Henry shrugged, scratching his head. The wind blew through, playing with his brown hair. Emma had her own blond hair tied in a ponytail, so as not to accidentally dip it in her ice cream. Peering down, Emma noticed he had his fairy tale book siting open in his lap.

"I see…." she muttered under her breath, sneaking a peek at the large pages.

"Hansel and Gretel," Henry said, boredom trumping his voice, "Although this version differs rom Ava and Zachary's." Emma pursed her lips.

"Wasn't her little brother's name Gregory here?" Emma asked. She couldn't really remember, but then again she wasn't one to question the book's contents. More often it was right instead of…. well, you know.

"I'm not really sure, but I guess it doesn't matter anymore, considering they're reunited with their dad," Henry brushed off her comment as he read, ignoring his ice cream, which, evidently, was beginning to melt, vanilla cream created rivers down the waffle cone and onto his hand.

"So what's different about this Hansel and Gretel?" Emma asked, taking a chunk out of her ow ice-cream. Her two front teeth tingled as she bit into it, chocolate chunks and cool mint flavor seeping into her mouth.

"These guys seem much cooler, I guess," Henry said, "I mean, they kill witches after their parents abandoned them in the woods-"

"Classic, huh?"

"- and then go town to town fighting them as well," Henry ignored her comment.

"Fighting witches, huh?" Emma aced, "Next you'll be saying their parents died after finding out the mom was a witch or something, right?" Henry grinned, shaking his head as he closed the book, using his index finger to trace the gold lettering on the town leather cover.

"Nah," he said, "I haven't gotten that far into the story yet."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. The ground beneath her was starting to feel a tad uncomfortable, and her back was starting to itch from leaning against the well. Hopefully it wasn't ringworm, but Emma figured she'd let Doctor Whale check it out later, just to be safe. Birds tittered happily as they few by, some taking refuge in nests, others hopping about to build one for themselves. It was a bit odd, that birds were always most present out that particular pat of the wood, but after living in Story Brooke for a while, she learned to leave it be.

With her ice cream now being almost entirely gone, her waffle cone damp and crunchy, Emma tapped Henry's shoulder as she got up.

"Alright, kid," she grunted, "time to get you home before Regina starts to worry." Henry rolled his eyes at the thought of her- she wasn't exactly the nicest woman for a mother, but she was trying, he knew. Tucking the book under his arm, he got up, Emma dusting his clothes free of any dirt.

"Ready to go?" Emma asked, eying her now unappetizing ice cream cone.

"Sure I guess," Henry said, "Same time tomorrow?"

"Sure, kid," Emma grinned, looking around, "Is there are garbage can anywhere or do I have to carry this thing back tot own with me?"

"Emma, just eat it," Henry pointed out, laughing a bit at her.

"You know what?" What I'm about to do is our little secret, 'kay?" Emma said, standing over the opening of the well. Reaching out, she held the cone at arm's length and let go watching the waffle get swallowed by the darkness.

"Now," Emma wiped her hands on her jeans in case there was any ice cream left, "let's g-"

"What the fuck?"

Emma and Henry froze, exchanging glances.

"What did I say about cursing?" Emma raised and eyebrow at him. The boy shook his head.

"It wasn't me!" he protested, "I swear!"

Emma opened er mouth to say something, surprised when a different voice came out instead- the same one, echoing from who knew where.

"This is exactly why you never let yourself get caught in a well."

They were surprised web a second voice joined the first.

"Yeah, well, it happens when you hunt witches or a living. Now stop stepping on my chest before I use this gun to smack you upside the head."


	2. Chapter 2

"So, where are we again?" Gretel asked her brother as they trekked through the wood, the sun sating beams of light through the green tree canopies overhead. The dirt trail they walked was beaten down with multiple prints- some human, some not. Gretel could see wheel tracks in the center, followed by scattered hoof prints.

"The cricket said this place was called Mysthaven," Hansel said, squaring his shoulders as he walked. Gretel nodded, brushing back her brown hair from her face.

"Did this cricket say anything else?" Gretel tested him, her tone bitter with uncertainty. There was no way that crickets were able to talk. That being said, she hunted witches for a living, so she really wasn't one to talk, now was she?

"He said it was commonly known as the Enchanted Forest," Hansel said, ignoring Gretel's attitude, "and that we're bound to run into a princess or two." Gretel rolled her eyes.

"Like who?" Gretel smirked, "Snow White? Cinderella?" Hansel stopped in his tracks, kicking up clouds of dust as he turned to face her, giving her an uneasy look.

"Yes, actually," he confirmed, "How'd you know?"

"You can't be serious." Gretel shook her head, "Hansel, those are fairy tales! They aren't real!"

"According to the cricket they are," Hansel shrugged as they continued walking. Gretel opened her mouth to say something, but closed it instead, crossing her arms over her chest. The leather rod her clothes squeaked due to friction, and she could feel the fabric dig lightly into her armpits. The heat from walking so much wasn't helping either, her braid plastered to her clothes and skin with perspiration.

"I can't believe you're taking directions from a cricket," she said.

"And I can't believe that you still think that there are no other magical creatures besides witches," Hansel shot back, adding after a quick moment of silence, "He said we should reach the town soon, so be ready."

"Uh-huh," Gretel licked her lips. They stung as saliva flew across cuts and chaps. Some were covered in dried blood, but Gretel didn't really have time to take care of things like chapped lips. Not in her field, anyway.

"Are you doubting me?" Hansel asked.

"No," Gretel said, but you aren't exactly the best when it comes to directions. Especially when you get them from a god-damned _cricket_." Hansel groaned, wiping his forehead free of sweat. He could see buildings on the horizon, and he squinted as he grabbed Gretel, pointing them out.

"You doubt me now?" he teased, and Gretel raised her hands in defeat.

"Alright then," she said, 'You win. But you have to pay for drinks once we get there."

"Whatever you say, sis," Hansel agreed, whistling a little tune t himself as they neared the town's gates. The wooden archway leading into the town square looked rickety, pieces of the wood having been eaten away by rot and mold. The entire thing looked haphazardly set up, and Gretel wrinkled her nose as they crossed under it, her eye catching rather large spiderwebs created into the uppermost corners of the architectural structure.

The town itself was small, with a large stone well resting smack in the middle. Cottages were stationed on either side, positioned like rows of obedient soldiers. The inhabitants were milling about, some pushing carts, others dragging children behind them as they walked. A boy in his mid-teens caught Gretel's gaze as he passed, clutching a glass bottle of milk. He had curly brown hair, and his eyes were filled with wonder as he stared at her; she had to admit that it was rather uncomfortable. Gretel gave him a small smile, hoping to politely see the boy off.

Thankfully, he ran in the opposite direction, and the siblings watched as he ran into a nearby house.

"Looks like you got yourself an admirer," Hansel sang, and Gretel felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

"Yeah, right," she snorted, hitching the strap of her gun higher up on her arm.

"Whatever," Hansel said, "That kid was so in love with you."

"He was not!" Gretel detested the crack in her voice as she yelled at her brother. Clearing her throat, she added, "Besides, we have more important things to worry about than puppy love."

Hansel grunted, absentmindedly stroking the delicate raised patterns decorating his gun- swirls of silver that resided on the long barrel, the trigger made of sleek brown oak. Looking around, he noticed the town was mostly empty, only a few people daring to venture out into the open.

"Why d 'you think it's so empty?" Hansel asked. Gretel shrugged.

"Well, there were reports of witches running amok here, so it's understandable, right?" Gretel said with a sigh. They were standing at the well, and it was bigger up close now that she was actually looking at it. The stones used to build it were perhaps the size of boulders, and bits of dust and gravel came away on her fingers as she touched it, the rock warm against her skin from the sun exposure.

"This could not have been made by humans," Gretel said with disbelief, clicking her tongue in disapproval.

"What do you mean?"

"These rocks are too big to have been carried by humans," Gretel pointed out.

Hansel shrugged his shoulders. He never really cared about the structure of things or how anything was made. He just cared about the money when it came to bashing in heads and burning bodies.

"Why should it matter?" Hansel said, "The fuckers probably paid off a troll or something. No big deal." Hansel shivered as a gust of chilled wind blew through the square, goosebumps prickling on his skin. _Weird_, he thought, looking around at the houses around them. _No one else is outside…_

And Hansel figured there was definitely no way it could have been the weather playing tricks on him.

"Did you just feel that random gust of cold wind?" he asked his sister. She was still staring at the stone walls of the well as if contemplating the meaning behind a piece of art.

"Are we talking the flatulence from your ass or the creepy wind that signals an ominous presence that may possibly get us killed?"

Hansel snapped his fingers, grinning as Gretel bit her lip, all the while keeping her eyes on the well. The water inside it was a dark blue, almost dirty grey as it sloshed around inside.

"That's the one," he said, adding quickly, "and at least we aren't in an enclosed area, right?" Gretel pursed her lips as she shrugged, slinging her gun over her shoulder to place her hands properly on the trigger. Hansel followed suit, holding his weapon at arm's length as the two of them spun around.

"That is very true," Gretel agreed, narrowing her eyes as she scanned the area.

No one was there.

She tried again, nodding to her brother to circle the well, back to back.

"There!"

Gretel turned to see Hansel running towards one of the houses, bullets flying from the mouth of his gun, only to be ferociously blown backward by some unseen force.

Hansel!" Gretel shouted, running towards him. There was a loud crack as he was sent flying into the well, his head connecting with the rough stones. Falling to her knees, Gretel threw her weapon down, getting her brother into a sitting position, patting him down for injuries.

Thankfully none were on his body or legs, and he was still conscious, groaning in pain as Gretel cupped his face in her hands. Brushing his hair out of his face, Gretel gently slapped Hansel's cheek.

"Hansel!" she said, her voice full of worry, "Hansel, get up!" Hansel opened his eyes in a flutter, blinking strangely at her before letting them droop shut again. Gretel shook her head, grinding her teeth as she lifted his head from against the well. At his groans, she carefully laid him down again.

Her fingers came away red.

"Shit!" she cried, jumping up and kicking the well with rage. Pain coursed through her as she stubbed her toe; however, that was the least of her problems.

"Aww, poor little girl," taunted a voice, "all alone with no one to protect you." Gretel picked up her gun, the metal cool against her fingers as she gripped it tightly. Her knuckles turned ghastly white, frightening against her bloodstained fingers.

"Stay back!" she yelled, "I'm armed!" Of course, she couldn't really tell who she was yelling at, waving her gun wildly about her, hoping to shoot _something_ down, at least.

"What are you going to do?" the voice said, "Shoot me?" Gretel turned, the voice sounding as if it were coming from behind.

No one was there.

"What the…" Gretel trailed off, lowering her weapon.

A bad move, she realized a minute later, as she felt a sudden force grasp her by the neck, a cold feeling of fingers curling around her throat. Letting her gun hang from her shoulder, Gretel reached to claw at her attacker but swiped at empty air instead. Gasping for breath, the hunter felt herself being lifted off the ground, legs dangling idly.

As she drew in desperate thin breaths, her neck snapped forward as she was then tossed like a rag doll, feeling herself graze the legs of the well as she crashed into it. The next was the sensation of water, burning as it flowed into her already pitiful lungs.

"Hansel!" she tried, the name barely getting out as she thrashed in the water, "Hansel!"

Dots of color invaded her peripheral vision as a face came to leer down at her. From what she could see, the skin was deathly pale, offset with sunken in eyes and blackened lips. Long black hair framed her face, and the sun looked like a disfigured halo radiating from behind her skull.

"Hansel is a bit…. tied up, right now, dear," the woman teased, smiling at Gretel as she struggled to stay afloat. Her lungs felt like fire, molten lava burning in her veins.

Witches, she decided, were a bitch to deal with.

There was a loud cackle as the with went on, "Oh! But wouldn't he be so happy to join you?!"

Gretel knew she couldn't stay afloat any longer. Her arms were getting weak. Her legs were straining to the point where she thought she wold rip a muscle. It was straining to even keep her chin tilted so her head was still above the water.

But Hansel was knocked out. He was sitting slumped against the well.

And at the mercy of a witch.

"Han…..sel…." Gretel managed to make out in a plea as blackness invaded her vision. Blood pounded in her temples.

And then she let herself slip under, the cool water enveloping her, muffling her senses completely.


	3. Chapter 3

When Hansel came to, the first thing he felt was an incessant pounding. His view was hazy, everything bathed in a distorted light as he blinked. Groaning, he pushed himself away from the well, hanging his head between his knees.

The last thin he remembered was being thrown backwards by the witch. The last thing he heard? Probably Gretel as she tried to wake him up. The last thing he saw?

Blackness.

Lifting his head, he turned to look over his shoulder. He was still at the well, and where his head had been resting was a patch of deep crimson.

Blood.

Getting up, he grabbed his gun, only to experience a momentary lapse in balance. Swaying, he held his hands out, blinding rapidly to get rid of any dots of color. His hand was loosely wrapped around the barrel of his weapon, and he let it fall to the dirt with a soft thud.

"Hey!"

Hansel looked around wildly, the momentum causing him to twist his ankle. He crashed alongside his gun. The voice came again. Everything was on a tilt, as if people were walking unsteadily on a pair of stilts.

"Hey, you okay?!" yelled the voice- a woman's voice, he realized, and the owner appeared a distance away, her feet getting larger as she approached him. Son he was eye to eye with a pair of brown leather boots, the heels and toe caked with dirt and mud. Hansel felt a twinge o pain as the woman grabbed his arm, pulling him to his knees.

"Sir, are you alright?" the woman asked, and Hansel lifted his head to find himself looking at a young woman with long black hair. Her skin was pale as freshly fallen snow, the fur lining of her coat making it look even paler. Her lips were painted a venomously bright red.

It sort of reminded him of red apples.

The woman lifted her hands to his face, and the leather of her gloves was rough against Hansel's cheeks.

"Sir…?" she tried getting his attention, "Can you speak? Say 'yes' if you're alright!" Hansel heaved his chest as he opened his mouth, letting out a low groan.

"…..The well…." he managed to get out, the woman's brown eyes filled with concern.

"You hit your head on the well?" she guessed. Hansel nodded, cringing as a new wave of pain itched through this head, ad he lifted his hand to touch the spot. He heard the woman gasp as his fingers came away red.

"You're bleeding!" she cried, her hands abandoning Hansel to rip open a satchel that hung across her body. Pulling out a rag, she reached around and pressed it gently to Hansel's wound. The witch hunter was acutely aware of faint hoof sounds in the distance, and he pulled away, crawling over to his gun. It was still lying net to the stones, the silver barrel dented slightly from the attack.

"Wait-!" the woman protested as Hansel pulled himself up, positioning his gun so it was pointed at her, sitting in his lap.

He spit at the ground, sending a stream of red at the dirt.

"Please… please don't shoot!" the woman pleaded. Hansel jutted his chin at her, motioning to the ground. He could hear the water moving around inside the well.

"Duck." was all he said, and the woman obliged. The air whistled in her ears as the bullet sailed past her. Hansel saw her jump as the wailing screech sounded, ringing in their ears.

The woman raised her head, glancing over her shoulder.

A woman was writhing on the ground, her arms and legs flailing underneath black clothes. It looked as if she were making snow angels, although from the looks of the woman herself, she was far from any angel you'd read about in books.

"What did you do?!" the woman yelled at hansel, her face etched with horror.

"Killed her." Hansel said through clenched teeth. The woman got up, hesitating before running back to him.

"But why?" she asked, eyeing the other woman tentatively. She was still screaming, a bloodcurdling howl that would have put a banshee to shame.

"Bitch deserved it," Hansel said, then motioning toward the well, "Did they get a troll to build this thing?"

"What?" the woman asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion. Hansel could hear the hoof prints getting louder, followed by the distant whinny of horses. Whoever it was was bound to be at the town entrance by now. The witch had stopped screaming, her body lying still in the dirt.

"A troll," Hansel said, "Did you guys get a troll to build this well?"

"I don't understand," the woman shook her head.

"That's what Gretel said anyway," Hansel shrugged, looking around.

"Who's Gretel?" the woman asked. The horses were now in the town, Hansel peering over the woman's shoulder to see a cluster of them standing at the gate. Atop them were men in shining silver armor, one of them wearing a bright red cape.

"My sister," Hansel replied, looking around a it suddenly occurred to him, "Hey, have you seen her anywhere? Last I saw she was trying to wake me up." Hansel tried replaying the events in his head.

First he had been thrown backwards by the witch.

Then, Gretel had tried getting him back up, and from what he could remember, she was definitely panicking. hansel hung his head, fingers curling into fists as he pounded them repeatedly into the ground.

"Hey! Hey!" the woman said, "What's wrong?!"

"Those bitches!" Hansel yelled, catching the attention of the group on the horses.

"Stay calm! What happened?" the woman tried, but hansel ignored her.

"Shit…" he muttered angrily, passing his forehead into the stone wall of the well, "shit…."

He really hoped the witches hadn't got to her after all.

There was a whinny as a horse approached them, the rider clearing his throat. The woman looked up, and out of the corner of his eye, Hansel could see the woman break into a broad grin.

"Charming!" she said, "What a surprise!"

"Same to you, Snow," the man said almost affectionately, grunting as he combed off his horse, "What seems to be the problem?" Hansel peeled his head off the well to meet eyes with this 'Charming' guy.

In Hansel's opinion, he looked like a yuppie. And that was putting it kindly.

"That woman over there?" Hansel jutted his chin at the woman lying by the gates, "That's a witch. Attacked me and my sister."

Charming nodded, pondering the predicament. He ran a hand through his ash brown hair awkwardly as he said, "I'm sorry, but I've never seen a witch that looked like that. Perhaps it's a shapeshifter." Hansel shook his head, the woman (known now as 'Snow') glared at him.

"Nope," Hansel disagreed, "That's a witch. And the other one possibly killed my sister." The man's face fell as he knelt down.

"I'm sorry…." he said, "I, uh…. how can I help?" Snow smiled at him, folding her hand against his own.

"Help me find her," Hansel said, "What, are you an idiot?"

"No," Charming said, his face turning red, "I'm a prince. And I won't be spoken to in that way." Hansel rolled his eyes.

Fat lot of good this guy was going to do.

"Charming!" Snow scolded him, and Hansel smirked, using the well to push himself up. The town looked completely deserted, every having gone inside to protect themselves. The only sound Hansel could hear was the water swirling around inside the well, along with…. was it a thumping sound?

Snow noticed Hansel looking around suspiciously, eyeing him warily as she and Charming got off the ground. "Is something wrong?" Hansel raised a finger, shushing her.

Then it came again. Something was hitting the wall, but it was obviously not one of them. Hansel turned his attention to the well, circling git like a lion cornering a gazelle.

"Sir….?" Snow asked again. Hansel ignored her, inspecting the stones piled up on one another.

He froze as he heard it again.

_Thump…_

_Thump…._

_Thump…._

"This well," Hansel said, "Do people draw water from it?" Snow and Charming exchanged glances.

"I think so," Snow said, "I mean, I never really spend time in a place for too long, so I really don't really know. I'm actually just passing trough here, to be honest." Hansel nodded. of course, he should have known she was a nomad type of person, judging from her choice of wardrobe.

Hansel leaned over the edge of the well, the stone hot against his palms. He let his gun hang by his side, the strap heavy on his shoulder as he bent forward. The water looked murky black in door, the sun having started to set on the horizon.

And up came Gretel's silver gun, bubbling as it reached the surface.

"Shit!" Hansel shouted, leaning and grabbing git, the metal slick and cold against his fingers.

"What is that?" Charming asked, pointing the weapon as Hansel dropped it on the ground, lying on the edge of the well, plunging his hands into the cold water. He splashed around, unable to find anything.

"Gretel!" Hansel shouted into the well, ignoring Charming's question. His voice echoed in the cavernous hole. "Gretel!"

No answer.

"Charming…." Snow tapped the man, "Charming-"

"Why does a peasant have a gun of this caliber?" the prime asked, "This is something that gets issued to knights and are only used if necessary-" Snow punched him in the arm, cutting him off.

"Charming!" she cried, "She's in there!" Charming glanced confusedly at Hansel as he was leaning over the edge, legs lifted in the air as he lowered his head.

"In the well?" he clarified. Snow groaned, rolling her eyes as she went to pull Hansel back up-

-only to see him dive headfirst into the water, landing with a loud splash.

"Hey!" Snow yelled after him, "Get back up here!" He resurfaced a minute later, glaring at the two of them.

"Not without my sister," he deadpanned, his voice cold a he took a deep breath, going back down.

The two watched as he went under once more. Snow creased her brow, Charming eyeing the waters tentatively.

The water was silent for a good five minutes. People were still in their houses, despite the amount of screaming and crashing that had gone on earlier. _Thats strange_, Snow thought, _you'd think these people would come out and help…. _

A low snarling broke her out of her concentration.

"Was that you?" Snow asked Charming who raised his hands in defense.

Then it came again.

Snow quickly pulled out her dagger, holding it at the ready as Charming drew his sword. Snow knew that while Hansel was fishing for his sister, someone would have to protect them. She just wasn't sure of how to do it.

"Any suggestions?" Charming said, his breath ht on Snow's skin as he whispered in her ear. The womb shook her head, fear freezing her bones. She could feel her knees start to buckle. The with was getting up, taking shaky, jerky steps towards them. Her mouth was bared, long white teeth poking between disgustingly black lips. Her eyes were an intense shade of blue, almost icy, hiding behind curtains of long black hair. Her dress was in tatters, and her skin was as pale as Snow's own, possibly stark white, covers in fragmented cracks.

All in all, neither Snow or Charming had seen a witch such as this.

"Not really, no," Snow replied softly, "shall we?"

Chrming had already charged the beast, however, screaming at the top of his lungs as he waved his sword. Snow rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "He's bonn ager himself killed one day…" and running after him.

All actions were for naught, the witch raising a hand and sending them backwards, a few feet away from the well. She advanced them, blue light crackling at her fingertips.

"Hey, Mister!" Snow yelled for Hansel, "Get your butt out of that well now!" Charming had gotten back up and tried again to swing at the witch. Her black gown was in tatters, trailing behind dyer as she stalked through the dirt.

And then Charming was down, the with pummeling him to the earth with a flick of her wrist. Snow let out a curse, immediately clapping a hand to her mouth. The witch cocked her head at her, reaching into the folds of her skirt to pull out a strange looking instrument. It was a stick of some sort, made of gnarled black wood. a glowing red orange orb rested in the center, making the wood bulge around it until it came to a point at the other end.

A wand, Snow realized.

She looked back at the well. No sound was coming out except for hansel's grunting.

"Mister!" Snow screeched, "Anyone! Help us!"

Before the witch could do anything, there was a loud ruck coming from inside the well. Snow turned to see the nomad burst from the surface, gasping desperately lungfuls of air. A body was slumped over his shoulder, and Snow took the opportunity to get away from the witch and pull him out, helping him lower the other to the ground.

"Bitch let Gretel drown," Hansel glared at the witch, who stared at them with wonderful curiosity.

"Oh…." Snow trailed, unable to say anything as she knelt down to tend to Gretel. Her brown hair was wet and slicked to her skin. Her clothes were damp and soggy, clinging to every contour and curve of her body. Her skin was a pallid gray- lack of oxygen, Snow presumed.

"I heard you and your prince yelling while I went for a swim," Hansel joked, "How's everything holding up?"

"Um, not good!" Snow admitted, wincing as she heard Charming emit a battle cry- no doubt he was waving his sword at the witch, getting thrown around like a rag doll. She didn't even want to look.

Hansel looked for her, shaking his head in disdain.

The way Charming was going about it was all wrong. He was going head on, and his yelling attracted the witch's attention, let her know what was coming. Hansel bent down and picked up his gun, nodding to his sister.

"Watch my sister for me," he said, raising his gun and heading towards Charming.

"Wait- what?!" Snow called after him. Hansel ignored her, pulling the trigger. He managed to miss Charming every time, something that left Snow thoroughly impressed. The witch obviously noticed Hansel getting closer, for she turned on him, crouching down like a tiger. Hansel simply raised his gun, watching as the witch then charge at him on all fours, kicking up rocks and dirt, saliva flinging from her lips as she bared her teeth.

"Hey Charming!" Hansel yelled at the prince. Charming raised his head, unaware that he was actually in the line of fire.

"Yeah?" the prince called.

"Duck."

And duck he did, moments before the witch jumped over him.

Hansel's bullet decided to meet her halfway, Charming yelling as he rolled out from under the woman. Hansel then ran, pumping his legs to the point of his muscles screaming in protest.

He was going to kill the bitch that drowned his sister. Even if he had to do it in front of a prince.


End file.
